by Harlan Wolff
“So, you are saying it was definitely on the side. That’s good, then, that she wasn’t doing it for you.”
“You don’t have many friends, do you? I try and help you, and the first thing you do is insult me,” Milos said.
“I had to ask,” Carl told him.
“In my world, people get sent to the hospital for such disrespect,” Milos said.
“I’ve already been to the hospital, so let’s stop wasting time with threats.”
Milos gave a laugh that sounded more like a cough and then said, “Alright, so you’re a funny guy, you’ve got balls too. I’ll help you, but only if it’s about Nadia, are we clear?”
“Crystal,” Carl said.
“She left because she didn’t need a job anymore. Didn’t need the money,” Milos said.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Carl said.
“She made a big score. Nailed somebody good, somebody with a lot of money. She came into the office one morning and said, Milos, I’m rich now, and I want to go and find myself.”
“Find herself?”
“Who understands the logic of whores?”
“And you let her go?”
“Sure, I let her go, why not? I was bored with fucking her, and I can always find another typist.”
“She didn’t tell you who this person was, the one that made her rich?”
“Not my business,” Milos said, “just another customer. She had many.”
“Did she seem concerned? That he might be dangerous, I mean?”
“Not at all. She was happy, and talking like she was going into retirement.”
“And she didn’t appear concerned?”
“He was a sucker, I could tell by the way she talked. No, she didn’t fear him.”
“She told her sister that she had made a dangerous enemy and was in fear for her life.”
“News to me. I don’t know anything about that,” Milos told him.
“It’s good that it wasn’t you that was looking for her,” Carl told him.
“Why would I be looking for her? I knew where she was. She used to call me for advice. She told me about you, and about the island, she even told me there was a girl called Jenny on the island who wanted to fuck you. She even called me to tell me she was pregnant.”
“Thank you, you’ve been a great help,” Carl told him.
Milos shrugged and walked away.
“Do you believe him?” George asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“I don’t think I approve of you playing nice with war criminals,” George said, but Carl didn’t answer.
At closing time, Carl and George were sitting in the idling Porsche, opposite Bomba. They watched Sergey and his partner in crime come out and turn right. The two Russians walked straight into a gang of street-walking ladyboys, transvestites and transsexuals, hard as nails from a lifetime of fighting to survive. The Russians were outnumbered and didn’t stand a chance. Carl watched for a while to make sure the ladyboys earned the thousand dollars he’d paid them. As soon as he saw they were putting their hearts and souls into the task, he told George to drive off. The injuries he’d received from Sergey and his friend meant he wouldn’t be driving his car for a few days yet.
“Those ladyboys are brutal. Your message has been delivered, and it’s their turn to go to the hospital,” George said as they drove past.
“And I doubt they’ll be advertising they got beaten up by people in dresses,” Carl said.
CHAPTER 31
“The power of the lawyer is in the uncertainty of the law.”
– Jeremy Bentham
Carl attended Nadia’s funeral with his lawyer. They had flown down in the morning and checked into the town’s only hotel, where Nadia had been staying when Carl met her running around the countryside on her bicycle. Her funeral was held in a small Buddhist temple, near the pier, and nobody from the island had bothered to show up. The only mourners standing in the blazing afternoon sun, apart from the stray dogs, were Carl, George, Clouseau, Maria, and the lawyer. There was a picture of Nadia displayed on an easel, and monks sat in a line under an ornate Thai roof and chanted in an ancient, long dead language. Not much of a send-off, Carl thought.
As soon as Nadia went on her final journey up the chimney, and everybody else went back to the hotel to get drunk, Carl and his old friend and lawyer, Anand set off for their appointment at the local police station. The lawyer had been contacted after an official-looking envelope had arrived at the White Tiger bar the day before, demanding Carl’s appearance at the police station. Anand had studied the case and called the major to confirm a time and then booked two tickets on the morning flight.
Major Yodsak was sitting at his desk, looking pleased with himself. His conversation with the lawyer was friendly and chatty, and Carl was ignored for a while. Lawyer Anand and the major went through the ritual of comparing people they both knew. This always took a while, but establishing your place in the hierarchy was essential to any discussion or negotiation in Thailand. Carl sat obediently still and remained silent throughout.
After the niceties were over, Anand turned to Carl and said, “The police have identified the man you were seen speaking to in the restaurant. They say he is a wanted man, and there’s an arrest warrant out on him for murder.”
“What man would the police be referring to?” Carl asked.
The major gave details of the man (Gop), his sidekick, the singer, and the restaurant they had all been seen together in. Carl waited for Anand to finish translating, even though he’d understood every word. “I don’t remember anything about the man. I was hungry, so I went to eat,” Carl told the lawyer, “and you know what Thai people are like, always trying to talk to foreigners. It happens to me all the time.”
Lawyer Anand relayed this to the major in Thai, and the major typed it into his computer. Then the major spoke again, “Does your client claim he doesn’t know this man?” he asked.
“Thai people always try and strike up a conversation with me when they hear me ordering food in Thai. Like I said, it happens all the time, and it’s nothing unusual.”
“It’s unusual to be having a conversation with a murderer on the day your girlfriend dies,” the major said.
“I don’t understand how this person is relevant to their enquiries,” Carl told his lawyer. “If he was here on the mainland talking to me when Nadia was killed, then how can he be the murderer?”
The policeman and the lawyer spoke for a while and then the major said something directed at Carl, and Anand translated it. “The major is saying there was a gang of criminals, and you had lunch with their leader.”
“Tell him I find his theory ridiculous,” Carl said and looked at his watch to appear disinterested.
“If we tell him that it will anger him,” the lawyer told him.
“Tell him anyway,” Carl instructed.
The lawyer had been right, Major Yodsak didn’t like this reply at all, and he berated Anand for not teaching his client proper interrogation etiquette. Anand apologised and explained that Carl was a challenging client, and his job was not an easy one. Anand and Carl had played this game before, but usually with clients in the hot seat, instead of Carl. After a while, everything calmed down, and Carl was asked to answer a lot of pointless questions about where he had been born; when he had arrived in Thailand; whether he was sharing a bed with Nadia; what they typically argued about; and who had been paying the bills.
After waiting a long time, while the major typed, checked the document, made corrections, and then finally printed it out, Anand read it through and discussed its contents with his client. Carl and Anand both found the statement acceptable, so they signed it and got up to leave.
“I want you to know, I will be arresting you soon,” the major told Carl in Thai as he was leaving. “We will soon have enough evidence, then you will spend the rest of your life in prison! This, I promise you.”
Carl and his lawyer walked down the steps into the sunshin
e and walked back to the hotel under a perfect blue sky. As they walked, Anand turned to Carl and said, “Good, that went well.”
“I’m pleased you thought so,” Carl told him.
“Oh yes,” Anand said, “that went very well. They can’t win this case.”
“I assume the reason he is so confident is that he thinks when they catch Gop, he will confess, and that will be enough to arrest me and get a successful conviction.”
“I think that’s his belief, yes,” Anand said. “He seems convinced you did it and is sure Gop was working with you. I’ve been telling you for years that the colonel’s bad judgement will get you labelled as a gangster one day. Gop is a violent lunatic. I hired him for a job once, on the colonel’s recommendation, and I got rid of him as soon as I could. He even tried to beat up the security guard at the building my office is in.”
“Let’s hope Gop and the major never meet. Who knows what might happen if they did,” Carl said.
“That’s the only thing to be worried about because they will not be so polite to a Thai suspect. He is likely to confess to whatever they want him to, by the time they’ve finished with him. But, without perjury, it’s clear they don’t have a case against you, so the major’s threats are just being made out of frustration.”
“Let’s just hope the colonel keeps Gop out of his clutches then,” Carl said.
“I think Colonel Pornchai is rather good at such things,” Anand told him with a grin, “but you already know that.”
“I expect he will hide Gop on an army base, somewhere the police can’t go,” Carl said.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” the lawyer told him.
CHAPTER 32
“Never look backwards or you’ll fall down the stairs.”
– Rudyard Kipling
On the morning after Nadia’s funeral, Carl, George, Clouseau, Maria, and Anand, decided to take a long-tail boat to the island. Clouseau said he had been away long enough and had to go back. George reminded Carl he was still paying rent on a hut and needed to break the lease. Maria wanted to see where her sister had spent her final days, and Carl thought it would be a good idea for Anand to familiarise himself with the geography of the island. So, they had all left the hotel after breakfast and set off for the pier.
The long-tail boat dropped them at the island pier, and they all took a mini-bus to the beach. “It’s paradise,” Maria exclaimed when she saw it. “Look how clear the water is. I can see a turtle swimming by those rocks.”
“I think Carl prefers bars,” George told her.
Carl saw things were back to normal at the resort, and not a police launch in sight, so while George and Clouseau took Maria and Anand to see where Nadia had died, Carl headed up the beach to the Flying Fish. He had already seen where Nadia died; he used to live there. It was mid-morning, and Jenny was already there, serving cold drinks to sunburnt tourists. She was obviously pleased to see him and came out from behind the bar to kiss him on his unstitched cheek, and then she handed him a cold bottle of beer.
“Bit early for me,” he told her.
“Drink it anyway, you look like you need it,” she told him.
“What’s been going on since I left?” Carl asked.
“Nothing much, the police have been asking questions, but nobody’s telling them anything. No one on the island believes you did it, and you already know what everybody here thinks of the police.”
“Is there anything they should have told the police?”
“Maybe,” Jenny told him.
“Like what?” Carl asked.
“Like, that the boat wasn’t stolen.”
“How come?” Carl asked her.
“You know Prasong, right?” Jenny asked.
“Yes,” Carl told her. Prasong was an old fisherman who lived on the mainland but was often seen on and around the island. He ran day trips from a place called Half-Moon Bay, a ten-minute walk from the clock tower, and the island was one of the destinations the tourists could choose from.
“Nadia contacted Prasong and rented his boat. She paid more than double because she didn’t want a tour; the people wanted to drive the boat themselves. This is not an unusual request, I am told many tourists prefer to go places where they can run around naked, smoke pot, and fuck in the sun. Prasong was told to leave the boat at the quiet end of Half-Moon Bay in the morning, and that he would find it back there in the afternoon. She paid him cash in advance.”
“You are telling me Nadia arranged the boat that brought her murderers to the island?”
“Yes, and she paid for it too,” Jenny told him. “She saw Prasong the day before she died, right here, on the island, and gave him the money.”
“That bloody major will find a way to use this against me,” Carl said.
“That’s why nobody is talking. He doesn’t know,” Jenny said.
“Let’s keep it like that,” Carl said.
“What do you think it means?” Jenny asked him.
“It means I’m even more confused today than I was yesterday.”
“Would you like another beer?” she asked.
“I think I would,” Carl told her.
George, Maria, and Anand joined Carl at the Flying Fish in the afternoon. Jenny was taken aback at how much Maria looked like her sister. Apart from her hair being darker and tied back, and the librarian eyeglasses, she was a carbon copy. Jenny looked at Carl with immediate disapproval, and the look didn’t go unnoticed.
“You have a lot of friends on the island, they’ll make good witnesses in court,” Anand told Carl.
“If this goes to court, I’m fucked,” Carl replied.
“We have a good case,” Anand insisted. Anand loved his job, and he was good at it and enjoyed arguing in court. It rarely occurred to him that his clients didn’t share his passion for the law.
“If it goes to court I am going to spend the next five to ten years out on bail if I’m lucky. During those years, I won’t be able to work, I won’t be able to travel, and when it’s all over, if by some miracle I am found not guilty in the Provincial Court, the Appeals Court, and the Supreme Court, I will be an old man with no money and a lousy reputation.”
“What is it you want me to do?” the lawyer asked.
“Think about what you will buy with the huge bonus you are going to get when the prosecutor refuses to take the case,” Carl told him.
“That’s your strategy? I’m not sure you’ll get what you want,” Anand said.
“We have to find a way,” Carl told him.
While he was talking to his lawyer, Carl couldn’t help noticing Maria staring at Jenny. She was too much like her sister, and Carl felt too tired for another soap opera. As if his life wasn’t complicated enough already, he thought.
“There’s a flight at 8 o’clock, and if we jump on a boat now, we can still make it,” Carl said. Anand and Maria told him they were coming with him to Bangkok, but George said he had some packing still to do and would follow them in another day or two. Jenny kissed Carl goodbye and, as she did, she whispered, “I don’t like this one either.”
When they got to the pier, Carl went to Clouseau’s minor wife’s noodle shop. He was in there sitting behind the counter, evidently subdued by the telling off he had received from his fearsome young mistress. Carl reckoned his friend wouldn’t be going to Bangkok for a while.
CHAPTER 33
“Fornication: but that was in another country; and besides, the wench is dead.”
– Christopher Marlowe
Maria showed up at Carl’s door wearing her little black dress again, so Carl grabbed his jacket. Her legs were driving him mad, and so was her perfume of wildflowers and heather, and he’d secretly always had a thing about women who wore tortoiseshell glasses. Was she doing it on purpose? She must know how hot she looks, Carl thought. It was starting to get late, and they went to the same restaurant as the last time and sat at the same table. The owner was happy to see them again, and he recited the daily specials from
memory. They ordered two dry martinis and opened their menus. Maria ordered coq au vin, and Carl ordered a medium rare steak.
“Aren’t you having an appetiser,” she asked him.
“Not if you’re not having one,” Carl said.
“You’re very easy to be with,” she told him.
“Thank you,” he answered politely.
“I want to apologise again, I behaved badly,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Carl told her. “You had jetlag, and you had just found out your sister had died.”
“I was hoping we could be friends now,” she said.
“Of course we can. Why not? It’s not like I murdered your sister or anything,” he told her.
“It’s taking me a while to get used to your dark sense of humour, but I think I’m beginning to understand what my sister saw in you.”
“Thank you,” Carl said.
“I just want to make one thing clear,” Maria told him, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Right,” Carl said as he put on his reading glasses to study the wine list.
“It’s nothing personal, you understand? You were my sister’s man, and it just wouldn’t feel right.”
“Right,” Carl said.
“And you are too old for me. What is it, a fifteen-year gap?”
“Alright, Maria, here’s the deal: they have a rather special Gevrey-Chambertin on the wine list, and I think we should drink it. We can celebrate me not being behind bars. The thing is it won’t taste good if I have to sit here and suffer insults all night. What do you think? Could you call off the dogs for a few hours?”
“Sure,” she told him, “I just felt it needed to be said.”
“I’m glad you got it off your chest,” Carl said, and then immediately regretted saying it. As hard as he tried not to look at her chest, he couldn’t help himself, and he knew she’d noticed the direction his eyes kept taking.
“Peace then,” she said. “Tonight we’re just two people having dinner in a nice restaurant.”
